


A sick day for Blaine Anderson

by Moonshoesklaine



Category: Glee
Genre: Sick Blaine, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-13 06:51:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4512093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonshoesklaine/pseuds/Moonshoesklaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt. Blaine gets sick with the stomach flu in Ohio.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A sick day for Blaine Anderson

Blaine thought that being in Ohio without Kurt would be fine, that he would be alright, but it was at times like these-when he was laid up in bed with nobody else at home-that he really wished that he still had Kurt.

He knew that he should get up and get ready for school. After all, there was nobody home, so if something did happen to him, nobody would be there to help him, or to call someone who could.

Luckily, he didn't have to drive because this week was Sam's turn to make the journey to and from school. Every other week, Blaine would pick up Sam on his way through, and the rest of the time, Sam would leave a little earlier in order to pick up Blaine before they both headed to school.

That was another reason why he knew he should go in; he hadn't yet texted Sam to tell him that he wouldn't be coming in, and looking at the time, he realised that Sam would probably be leaving around now, so, ignoring the scream coming from just about every bone in his body, he pulled himself out of bed, and pulled on the clothes he'd laid out neatly on the chair in the corner of the room.

He took longer than he usually would to get dressed, and chose to forgo gelling his hair that morning, so that when Sam beeped his horn ten minutes later to signal he was outside, Blaine was just about ready to go.

He made sure to pump himself full of whatever he had in the bathroom medicine cabinet before he left so at least his symptoms would be a little less harsh on him by the time he got to school.

Instead of flying down the stairs like he usually would, Blaine made sure to take his time, holding on to the hand rail and taking it one step at a time.

The last thing he needed was to fall down the stairs.

Sam had his eyes closed when Blaine eventually made it out of the house, and was nodding-well, throwing would probably be a more appropriate term-his head along to whatever song was on the radio at the time, so he didn't really notice Blaine until he felt someone open up the door on passenger side of his car.

Sam beamed the minute he saw him.

"It's about time, dude. I was beginning to think that- woah, you okay?"  
"Yeah-just a little under the weather, that's all"  
"A little-? Dude. No offence or anything, but you look like shit."

Blaine smiled a little at the blonde's concern and shook his head, "I'm so lucky to know you, Sam. You know exactly how to make a guy feel good about himself."

"I know, it's one of my many charms." He winked before continuing, "Seriously though, you do look pretty terrible, are you sure you should even be in today?"  
"Mmhmm, I'm sure. I'll be fine, honestly. Now come on, or we'll be late."

Sam nodded, despite the doubt that he still had and pulled off into the road. He'd known Blaine for long enough now to know that even getting him to admit feeling anything less than great was hard enough, and if he didn't want to stay home, then there was probably a reason for it, and he wasn't going to push him for that reason any time soon.

As he pulled off, Sam turned the volume on the radio down, knowing full well that Blaine was likely to have a headache and probably wasn't going to admit it any time soon. That didn't mean that Sam had to sit back and allow his best friend to suffer, though. He knew Blaine appreciated the gesture-well, if the content sigh he let out as he leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes was anything to go by.

The two arrived at school in just under twenty minutes, and they were in their first lesson within the hour. The drugs that Blaine took helped. They actually helped.

Well, they helped for about three hours before they started to wear off and he started to feel the brunt of whatever it was that he had, full force. 

He headed to the choir room a little earlier than he usually would in the hopes of getting some peace and quiet before the herd stormed in.

And he did get quiet.

For about a minute.

Unfortunately, everyone had decided to come in earlier-something about a stink bomb in one of the other corridors that nobody really wanted to be that near to for that long.

Understandable, really.

Sam took one look at him, sat in the back row, as far into the corner as he could go, shoulders hunched and arms wrapped tightly around his mid section and immediately made a beeline in his direction.

He placed two hands on either shoulder and lowered himself down to Blaine's level.

"Come on dude. Schue's not here yet, we're going."  
"Sam, I really-"  
"Shut up dude, you get no say in this. Hey, Brit? Could you tell Mr Schue when he gets here that I've taken Blaine home? I'll be back later though."

"Sure, is he alright? He's not dying, right?"  
"He'll be fine Brit, he's just not feeling too great right now, okay?"

She nodded and Sam picked up Blaine's bag, slinging it over one shoulder, and supporting Blaine with the other. He could feel the shorter boy's heat, even through his own t-shirt and Blaine's hoodie. As he got them both to the car he made a quick decision which could have gone either way; Blaine would hate him forever and never speak to him again, or things would go the way they were supposed to go and the universe would act the way it should.

He was really hoping for the latter.

And really, it was the best for Blaine.

He would need permission first though, so he sent a quick text to the people he would need it from, and waited for a reply before leaving school.

Blaine was asleep within seconds-if that-and so he didn't see it when Sam missed the turning he needed to take in order to get to Blaine's street, and instead turned left, nor did he see it when they pulled into a driveway that had become more and more familiar to him over the years.

"Come on dude, wake up. We're here."

It took Blaine about three minutes to wake up completely, and another 5 to get to the front door. It was only then that he realised where they were, "Sam, this isn't my house"

The front door opened, revealing a slightly chuckling Burt Hummel, "Nothing gets past you, does it, kid?"

Sam handed the bag to Burt and stepped back, "Listen, Blaine, I've got to get back to school, but feel better, yeah? Thanks Burt."  
"No worries, Sam. Come on let's get you inside."

Although he was most definitely too sick to argue, that didn't stop him from trying, "I-I can't, Mr Hummel. I can just go home, it's okay, it's not that far. I didn't know we were coming here, if I did I would have told Sam to turn around. I'm sorry to have bothered you. Look, I'll just go."

"Blaine, Sam texted me before he left. It's fine. He said he noticed that your parents aren't home because their cars are gone and that you were super sick. He just didn't want you to be home alone, that's all."

"But why did you agree? I'm not with Kurt anymore, you don't need to do this."

"Listen kiddo: when I get a text from Sam Evans asking me to look after you for a while because you're super sick and he's really worried, I'm going to agree to that, regardless of whether or not you're dating my son. Like it or not Blaine, you're a huge part of this family now, and that means that you get fussed over when you're sick-and Jesus kid, you are sick, just-sit down, okay?"

"O-okay." He allowed himself to be lowered down onto the sofa, and it was too comfortable for him to not sink down into. Burt disappeared out of sight, but was back moments later carrying a tray with some stuff on it-Blaine couldn't quite make out what it was though-in one hand and a pile of Kurt's clothes in the other. 

Blaine attempted to straighten himself up in front of Burt, but the older man just chuckled and shook his head, "Blaine, you're allowed to get comfy, it's fine."

"I shouldn't be though." But it was so quiet that Burt had to ask him to repeat it, he cleared his throat and tried again and Burt made a mental reminder to get the kid some soothers for his throat because he could tell by the raspiness of his voice that his throat was giving him hell.

"I said I shouldn't be. I shouldn't be allowed to get comfy. Not in your home."  
"Kid are you crazy? What makes you say that?"  
"I cheated on Kurt. The one thing in my life that actually seemed to be going okay and I ruined it. And now, I can't even tell him how sorry I am because he won't answer any of my calls. I broke him, Mr Hummel. I broke him, and I now I can't help but feel broken myself. I didn't mean to do it, I just-he never picked up the phone when I called him, he stopped texting me and it just seemed like-well, I don't know-it was almost as if he didn't seem to care. I was feeling so lonely, and so the second-the first second-a guy showed even the slightest bit of interest in how my day was going, I went straight to him. What does that say about me?"

Burt sighed, removed the cap from his head and rubbed the top of it with his left hand before sitting down next to Blaine, "It shows you're human, kid. Blaine, you're not perfect, but show me a guy who is and I'll eat my own hat. The fact is, you're never going to find somebody who is perfect because that person doesn't exist. You and Kurt, you're going through a rough patch right now, but you're going to get through it. Do you know how I know that?"

He shook his head.

"Because Kurt's mom and I were exactly the same. We broke up for a while because we just needed some space, but after a few weeks, we got over it. We got back together, and 9 months later, Kurt was born. Now I'm not saying that you and Kurt are going to get back together straight away and have a kid, because I don't really want to think about my son doing that, no matter who it's with. But what I am saying is that what you and Kurt have is real. It's not a silly little childhood crush. It's mature. You're mature, Kurt's mature. It's a mature relationship. Kurt's mom and I had one, Carole and I have one, and I can see the exact same thing in you and Kurt. The way he looks at you...it's the way Elizabeth used to look at me. It's the way I look at Carole. You and Kurt will get through this. Trust me. Okay?"

"Okay."

"Great. Well, now that I've got that sorted out we can see about getting you some medicine. Are you allergic to anything?"

Blaine shook his head in response, breaking out into a coughing fit. He waited until it had subsided, wrapping his arms tighter around his stomach, sinking down further into the couch, and curling in on himself with his eyes closed, trying not to fall asleep. He may have been exhausted, and every inch of him was telling him that he needed to sleep, but this was still Burt Hummel's couch, and he didn't really want to fall asleep on the man he considered to be his father.

But, his need to sleep won the battle he seemed to be having internally and within minutes, his eyes were closed and he was snoring softly, his head resting on the crook of his elbow.

Burt walked in and found him like that. The poor kid looked absolutely exhausted and figured that he probably needed all the rest that he could get.

He didn't have the heart to wake him.

So instead, he chose to move into the kitchen and ring Carole. She'd left at around six that morning and had been working ever since.

It was now twelve o'clock. 

According to Carole, a bunch of people had been admitted with the same symptoms as Blaine, and some of them had it really bad.

Stomach flu.

"I don't know Carole, I mean-the kid's a mess. Do you think I should bring him in?"  
"It depends. How bad is his fever?"

Burt paused for a second, realising he hadn't actually checked; his first port of call had been Carole.

"Um-hot? I guess? I-"

He broke off as a soft thud stole his attention. Looking back he realised that Blaine must have tried to get up to use the toilet or something-but his legs had given out half way through his decision because he was now unconscious on the floor, cheek resting against the carpet beneath Burt's feet.

"Never mind Carole, I'll be bringing him in anyway. Looks like he's just passed out. I'll see you later honey."

He hung up the phone and bent down to pick Blaine up, bridal style, held protectively against his chest. Once he had made sure Blaine was safe in the back, Burt sped off towards the hospital.

Carole met them in the car park, and opened the doors for Burt as he held his once-son-in-law-to-be in his arms.

Three hours later, Blaine was sitting up in bed, pumped full of drugs, bowls nearby in case he needed to throw up-a tool that had proved invaluable since his arrival.

Burt was sitting in the chair next to the bed, phone in hand.

"I-I should thank you Burt. None of this was-"  
"Shh. Shut up kid."

The two of them chuckled, Blaine's more of a laugh-turned-cough, however.

"I rang Kurt while you were out kid, told him everything-everything."

"Oh God, Burt you didn't have to do that, I'll be fine, it's alright-ugh he's going to hate me for this."

"Don't be an idiot Blaine-he knows I rang him without telling you, in fact, he made me promise not to tell you something in return. He wanted it to be a surprise, I guess."

"What's that?"

Burt placed a hand on the blanket, resting upon Blaine's knee.

"He's on his way, kid."


End file.
